


Keeping Up Disappearances

by florisuga



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2240787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florisuga/pseuds/florisuga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Daehyun wonders what he's doing with his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Up Disappearances

Daehyun finds Youngjae in one of the most predictably unpredictable places: in front of the coffee shop not far from the park, leaning back in his chair, one hand holding a novel open and the other playing absentmindedly with the handle of his coffee mug.

"So," Daehyun says as he slides into the seat across from Youngjae. He's wearing his best smile even though Youngjae doesn't look up from his book. "Have you thought about my offer?"

Without bothering to hide the boredom in his voice, Youngjae tells him, "I've thought about it."

"And?" Daehyun prompts.

Youngjae turns the page of his book and doesn't answer.

—

Sometimes Daehyun wonders what he's doing with his life.

There are days when he finds himself relaxing at a bar with friends, all of them less than sober but maintaining an average conversation about their average days with their average coworkers at their average jobs, and he wonders to himself, _when did things start to change?_

And since Daehyun has never been able to hide his emotions well, especially when liquor is involved, his silence is never unnoticed.

"You look so forlorn," someone always tells him. "Did somebody die or something?"

Daehyun sighs as his friends burst into laughter and signals the bartender for another shot.

—

"Remember that time in New York City?" Daehyun asks Youngjae when he eventually finds him at the tavern downtown the next day. "When we had to find our way around using that map Jongup drew because we left our phones behind?"

A corner of Youngjae's mouth quirks up as he takes a drink of his beer.

Daehyun continues, "And even though we finally found the place, we told Himchan we never got there?"

Youngjae lazily thumbs at the neck of his bottle. "Pretty sure he wanted to kill us," he says. His lips twitch, ever so slightly. 

Daehyun hums agreeably. "Probably." Slowly, carefully, he shifts his feet. To find his balance, sort of. Or brace himself. He adds, "I miss the way we used to be. Like New York. Don't you miss it too?"

Youngjae takes a deep breath as though he's considering something to say, but in the end he only sighs and says, "I think you should leave."

—

If anybody asked Daehyun to describe Youngjae, he simply would've said, "spontaneous." Every detour they took together as they traveled between jobs, every tourist attraction and restaurant and taxi cab ride to whatever looked interesting on their map at that moment is still fresh in Daehyun's mind. 

"We literally go everywhere except where we're supposed to be," Daehyun told Youngjae once while they were waiting for their flight to arrive and take them _anywhere_. "I don't know how Himchan manages to keep track of us."

And Youngjae answered, "He doesn't."

The side trips, the random stops, the unpredictability drove Himchan _crazy_. All of their calls to him, even after finishing an assignment, always ended with _fuck's sake, just do your jobs._

Youngjae and Daehyun would promise, _of course,_ and then take the next exit to God-knew-where.

Ironically, their spontaneity had spawned routine. The freedom of not knowing was reassuring, in a way.

—

A few days later, Daehyun is in the middle of eating his sandwich when he blurts, "I'm not sure how much longer I want to keep doing this."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, it's disgusting," Himchan says. He calls the waiter over for another drink and then asks Daehyun, "What are you even talking about? You love this."

And Daehyun really can't argue because he does love it, _did_ love it, still loves the travel and the searching and the _rush_. But.

"It's just not the same anymore," says Daehyun. "Or it's all the same. I don't know."

Himchan closes his eyes and sighs; it's a drawn-out, exhausted sound that reminds Daehyun of every speech he'd ever received that started with _here we go again._

That's essentially the reply he gets this time, too. Himchan says, "Just do your job," and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a napkin, crumpled up and inconspicuous among the used utensils on the table. "I don't pay you to have fun." He pauses, considering, and adds, "Intentionally."

Daehyun grabs the napkin and manages one good throw at Himchan's head before he walks out-of-range and closes the door to the restaurant behind him.

—

"Motivation," Youngjae told Daehyun when they first met, "is important in anything you do."

"So why did you decide to do this?" Daehyun asked. 

Youngjae answered, "I have my reasons." And, all casual, he said, "Fifty-thousand of them."

His answer fluctuated whenever another of their friends would ask. Sometimes it was fifty-thousand. Sometimes seventy or one hundred. _Market price,_ Youngjae would say.

"What about you?" Youngjae asked. He edged closer, as much as he could in the tiny, worn-down bucket of a car that Himchan had found for them. "What keeps you going?"

At the moment, Daehyun didn't know how to answer. Years later, when Daehyun had memories and experience, he thought of all the trips he had taken with Youngjae and the time they had spent searching for houses or offices or cars or people and he remembered the _anticipation_ and--

"I just like doing this," Daehyun finally told Youngjae out of nowhere.

Youngjae just hummed thoughtfully. "In that case, I'll take your half of our pay from now on."

"Nice try," Daehyun said.

And Youngjae smirked and told him, "I'm not trying yet."

—

Since the beginning, Daehyun has understood that his line of work is not for the faint-hearted or the weak-willed. It requires knowledge and determination and a refusal to back down because hesitation is _dangerous_.

"I know that I fucked up," Daehyun says so, so sincerely. "I got carried away and stopped paying attention. I was stupid. Give me another chance."

"I don't make the same mistake twice," Youngjae tells him. He has made it so clear that he still hasn't let go of what happened, rightfully so, but it still hurts Daehyun to know that both of them still dwell on the past despite trying so hard to live in the present.

"Neither do I," says Daehyun. "You know that."

Youngjae lets out a long breath of air but otherwise remains silent. Daehyun takes the opportunity to say _remember when_ and _that one time_ and _I still think about those times._

Eventually Daehyun tells him, "You don't need to forgive me, but don't let me keep you from doing things that you enjoy." He turns to leave before Youngjae can say anything, leaving no trace of himself but a crumpled napkin.

—

In the moments before Daehyun goes to complete his assignments, he can start to _feel_ it: the same rush, that familiar high of motivation and the anticipation of whatever was to come.

There is something exciting and satisfying about the sound of his magazine locking into place, and the weight of the knife concealed in his jacket is reassuring. 

Around the side of his target's garage, Daehyun hears Youngjae say, "You still carry too much."

His voice has this lightness that's almost playful. It has Daehyun flashing back to their previous jobs: losing themselves in crowded streets, staking out buildings, running, the thrill of adrenaline pumping through Daehyun's body, looking at Youngjae out-of-breath beside him and _laughing._

"You never carry enough," says Daehyun.

"I guess we'll have to improvise, then," Youngjae tells him, "just like we used to."

**Author's Note:**

> Many "Thank You's" to [yubat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/yubat/pseuds/yubat) for her beta work and patience and support and all of her help brainstorming!


End file.
